The incredible outpouring of support that New Orleans has received from so many people worldwide has been phenomenal. It seems that everywhere I turn there are small businesses, large corporations, and individuals that are each trying to do something to help in the relief effort. Growing up in Texas, I was fortunate to have been able to visit the city of New Orleans on many occasions. There is truly nothing quite like it, with an energy all its own, a mixture of magical wildness and vitality, Southern hospitality, and an incredible cuisine all its own.

I may blog during the wee hours of the night, but in the daytime I work as a cookbook editor. I've devoted a good part of the past 2 1/2 years to working on the Williams-Sonoma Foods of the World series. In a twist of fate, one of my books in the series, Foods of the World New Orleans, was released in stores shortly before Katrina devastated the area. Williams-Sonoma recently announced that they would donate 100% of the proceeds from the sale of the book to the American Red Cross in support of its hurricane-relief efforts until October 16. The book is available in Williams-Sonoma stores now and can be purchased online. It is a beautiful tribute to the city and the people of New Orleans, and many restaurants, food artisans, small businesses and other individuals in the culinary community of New Orleans were involved in making this book happen. For me, this book is a tribute to those people, and my heart goes out to them.

As many of you noticed (and commented) Shuna's most recent post reviewing Range generated a lot of controversy over the ethics of blogging, specifically regarding food journalism. I want to make it clear that as KQED's producer of Bay Area Bites I reviewed and approved her post.

The post generated a strong reaction, with both supportive and critical comments...the most comments ever on a BAB post. What the comments brought up was not whether Range is actually a good or bad restaurant but whether it was ethical for Shuna to review a restaurant where she had applied for a job and had exercised chef privilege to get "special treatment" (i.e. a better reservation); basically, a journalistic conflict of interest. I think some of the commentators assumed she had a free meal on the house and may have been rejected for the job. I thought it was important for her to clarify these gray areas since it was not clear from the post what the story was regarding these issues.

I felt that Shuna was honest about her position and that her "insider" perspective might actually enhance her critique of the food. Others thought differently. Regardless of opinion, this is a good debate on many levels. Jen, our newest blogger, posted the issue on Food Blog S'cool.

Other issues that were brought up:

Do you review a restaurant after visiting it one time and should you review a restaurant when it is in its infancy (before 1 to 3 months have passed)?

To me, the beauty of the blog is that it does not have to follow the strict guidelines of mainstream newspapers and we can exercise some flexibility and get first impressions out quickly. A key factor is being up front about these conditions. Our bloggers need to clarify their position, timing and perspective. Blogging is very much about personal opinion. The opinions expressed by our individual bloggers are not necessarily KQED's opinions, but as an organization, it does need to have guidelines in place to support KQED bloggers.

Some food for thought and comments...

Should blogs follow the same ethical guidelines as mainstream media?

Since this blog is under the umbrella of KQED, do we need to follow journalistic guidelines that other personal blogs don't adhere to?

Our bloggers are a diverse group of food professionals but are not necessarily professional reviewers or journalists. They are not paid for their work, they are volunteers. Do they need to follow the guidelines that professional reviewers abide by or does the nature of the blog call for a more personal perspective?

One commentator posted some good questions:
"I think it would be great if you had an article on the ethics of blogging -- how it's different from 'real' journalism, how it's the same, what needs to happen and what are the goals. Is it a blog if it's under the KQED banner or is it a magazine in blog format? If it's a magazine, is there an editor? What is the editor's role? I'm not saying there are any definite answers but this entry/article really points out the need for the discussion. And it would be interesting.
FWIW, I'm not sure there are any absolutes but having your co-bloggers come on and defend your position adds nothing except point out they are loyal and true, which is nice to know not a news flash."

Interestingly, there was a blogger session last week at the Association of Food Journalists conference that was slated to address some of these ethical issues. On their website they have posted their ethics and food critic guidelines.

However, the guidelines are copyright 2001 (pre-blog) and the AFJ does not acknowledge food blogs as a category in its awards competition, so I am passing these along not as rules that we should necessarily follow, but issues we should discuss.

Some current discussions of Blogger Ethics can be found here:
• The cost of ethics: Influence peddling in the blogosphere at USC Annenberg Online Journalism Review
• A Bloggers' Code of Ethics at Cyberjournalist.net
• Weblog Ethics at Rebecca's Pocket

Here at KQED Interactive we are discussing these issues in our weekly content meetings. Since we are new at establishing ourselves in the blogosphere we are in the process of figuring out our position regarding ethics and guidelines.

I would like to get people's feedback on this issue. I certainly don't want to deter our bloggers from writing critical reviews or insist they adhere to rigid guidelines. I think the freedom of the blog allows us to have more of an edge, and edginess with honesty is a good thing. The blog's reviews are extremely popular-- especially of new establishments--so it is important to arrive at a consensus of approach that we all believe is ethical yet provides the insight and immediacy of the inside scoop.

I look forward to reading your thoughts.

What are you investing in this week? Berkshire Hathaway? Google? Pfizer? How about investing in one of your local farms? Through a CSA, or Community Supported Agriculture, program you can do just that. When you join a CSA program, you purchase a share of the farm's crop and are in exchange provided with part of the crop each week. By joining a CSA program, you invest in a farm and, along with other members, provide a steady stream of cash to a farm when it is needed most. Most CSA programs provide a discount if you pre-pay for your share on a quarterly or yearly basis because a pre-payment allows the farm to use the cash in the springtime when money is needed for farm equipment or investment in the farm.

A farm with a CSA program is a farm of a different color. Instead of following the nationwide trend of growing one or two crops per farm, the farm grows a multitude of different crops with the goal of providing variety to the CSA members. A polycultural farm, or farm that grows many crops, has many advantages:

• It has built-in pest and disease control. If a bug has to work too hard to find it's favorite tomatoes for instance, it will leave the polycultural farm and go find a farm that has an entire field of only tomatoes,

• It insures itself. There are so many crops on a polycultural farm that if one crop fails, there is another type of crop to take its place, and

• It's diversity means that it is constantly changing and trying new products.

Most CSA programs deliver goods weekly to a spot near your home - it could be a school, someone's house, or a business. You agree to pick up your produce box each week during a pre-set window of time. You are usually asked to pay for the program at least monthly, or sometimes quarterly. CSA programs vary in price and in variety of fruits and vegetables that they provide. By participating in a CSA, you will receive a newsletter with each delivery, and often will be invited to farm events throughout the year.

With most CSA programs, you don't have a say in what you get. Each week, you receive fresh and in-season fruits and vegetables. While purchasing products from a farm at a farmer's market is a good way to get to know a farm, don't make the mistake of thinking that what you see at a farm stand is the only product provided to a CSA member. Many farmers grow a product for the CSA program but for many reasons don't bring it to market.

We in the Bay Area are fortunate to be able to choose from many local CSA programs:

Capay Organic Farm (Yolo County)

Capay Organic Farm features home and office deliveries throughout the Bay Area and Sacramento. Their CSA program, called "Farm Fresh to You," allows you to choose a regular box, a small box, or a mostly fruit box. You can also choose a "snack pack" delivery which is suitable for offices, and can be set on any schedule. With Farm Fresh to You, you can have some say in what is in your box by letting the farm know if there is a fruit or vegetable that you will never use, and a substitution will be made. This substitution policy is unique to Farm Fresh to You.

Cost: $21.50 - $29/week. Delivery cost is included.

This week's box includes: Mixed Cherry Tomatoes, Summer Squash, Heirloom Tomatoes, French Fingerling Potatoes, Bell Peppers, Bartlett Pears, Gala Apples, Yellow and Red Onions, and Melon.

Eatwell Farm (Yolo County)

Eatwell Farm is a year-round CSA program with 11 pickup sites in San Francisco and 12 pickup sites in the East Bay, Davis, and Marin County. With Eatwell's CSA program, you can pick up a box every other week instead of weekly if you eat fewer veggies. Eatwell has recently started selling eggs which are from their farm and can be included in your box. Cost is $5.50/dozen or $3/half-dozen.

Cost: $21/box. Rates shown are based on a four-box subscription. Cost is reduced if you pay on a quarterly or yearly basis.

This week's box includes: Watermelon or Ambrosia Melon, Green Beans, Grapes, Green Peppers, Mixed Plums, Cucumbers, Summer Squash, Cherry Tomatoes, Fresh Thyme, and Asian Pears.

Full Belly Farm (Yolo County)

Full Belly has 22 pickup sites in East Bay, Marin, South Bay, and Sacramento. They don't have any pickup sites in San Francisco. Home delivery is available for select East Bay locations for an additional $5/week. Full Belly Farm is a polycultural farm in every sense of the word. In addition to fruits and vegetables, they provide products such as whole wheat flour, lamb, and yarn for an additional price.

Cost: $15/box. Price is reduced if you pay on a quarterly or yearly basis.

This week's box includes: Corn, Eggplant, Grapes, Onions, Cantaloupe Melon, "Surprise" Melon, Summer Squash, and Tomatoes.

Two Small Farms/Mariquita Farm (Watsonville)

Mariquita Farm and High Ground Organics join to provide a CSA box from Two Small Farms. They have 5 pickup sites in San Francisco, and 51 pickup sites in the South Bay, Peninsula and Santa Cruz. Two Small Farm's CSA runs from March through November. They provide mainly vegetables with a small amount of fruit. You can have flowers delivered with your veggie box for an additional $6/week.

Cost: $20/box

This week's box includes: Strawberries, Tomatoes, Swiss Chard, Cauliflower, Carrots, Basil, Artichokes, and Eggplant.

Riverdog Farm (Yolo County)

Riverdog Farm has 20 pickup sites in East Bay, Davis, and Napa. They don't have any pickup sites in San Francisco. Their boxes include fruits and vegetables. To preview this farm's offerings, you can visit them at the Berkeley Farmer's Market on Tuesdays and Saturdays.

Cost: $16/week

This week's box includes: Mixed Tomatoes, Yellow Baby Watermelon, Charentais Melon, Orange Honeydew, Globe Eggplant, Armenian Cucumber, and Red Onions.

Terra Firma Farm (Yolo County)

Terra Firma Farm has 16 pickup sites in San Francisco and 15 pickup sites in the East Bay or Sacramento area. Their delivery features fruit and vegetables with the option to choose your box size -- small, medium and large.

Cost: $13 - $29/week. Startup cost involves a $35 deposit, refundable upon timely notification of discontinuation. Rates shown are based on monthly subscribership. Cost is reduced if you pay on a quarterly or yearly basis.

This week's (large) box includes: Tomatoes, Fingerling potatoes, Asian pears, Gypsy peppers, Orange honeydew, Garlic, Summer Squash, Apples, Valencias, Red watermelon, and Onions.

About a year ago, I wrote an article for MSNBC musing who would be the next Martha Stewart. Alton baby, as much as I love you, I must retract my conclusions. Martha doesn't need a replacement. Martha, in her shiny gold clogs, is back.

As I begin my sixth year writing for Television Without Pity, released from my Star Trek Enterprise bonds, I have been assigned to recap The Apprentice: Martha Stewart. In the spirit of research, I TiVo'd Martha's new talk show, Martha, and settled down to watch the premiere episode yesterday.

Despite the media blitz Martha has received in recent days, weeks, months, hours, as of 2:59 PM this afternoon, I still had no idea what to expect from this show. Whatever predictions I could have made, I certainly didn't anticipate laughing as much as I did.

After the first few segments, it becomes very clear that Martha intends to show the viewership that she has a sense of humor. Not just a sense of humor, mind you, a sense of humor about herself. Hell, that much was clear just from the show's opening! Following Martha's old baby, modeling, and Miss America photographs, the opening sequence additionally flashes the now-famous photos of her being led away to prison, as well as one of her ponchoed prison release.

The first guest segment with Desperate Housewives star Marcia Cross (formerly the wig-ripping Kimberly on Melrose Place) had me rolling the most. Not only is her character, Bree Van De Kamp, supposed to be a psychotic-Martha-Stewart-Stepford-wife knock off, but Martha and her producer Mark Burnett (the man behind far too many reality shows) open the segment with a famously risqué clip from the nouveau nighttime soap. Before airing the clip, Burnett makes a comment about Bree being modeled after Martha. Then we view the clip of Bree tossing off a fur coat to expose her perfectly toned body clad only in a matching set of scarlet bra and panties. After the clip, Martha snorts over Burnett's previous statement before looking straight into the camera, a lock of blond bangs sassily shading one eye, to say, "You know what? You're right. That's totally me."

After muffing a Martha Lesson on how to expertly fold a tee-shirt (something I intend to master, by the way), Marcia Cross shows just how unlike her character she is when Martha attempts to teach her how to make scrambled eggs in the huge studio kitchen. Instead of dropping it in her hot and waiting skillet, Marcia adds a pat of butter to a bowl of raw eggs. Both ladies dissolve into unrehearsed laughter and Marcia gasps, "I wasn't kidding!"

Later in the show, in her "What's Really for Dinner?" segment, Martha makes a surprise visit to a few of her fans -- two Italian sisters -- to help them cook and serve dinner to their families. Listening to their conversation, Vintage Martha comes out as she tells one of the sisters she noticed the weeds in the garden and offers to help pull them up. The New Martha also makes an appearance when she plays cards with the husbands and announces, "I know every card game -- I got Hoyle's Book of Card Games in prison." Doesn't that "in prison" just make you sit up and take notice though? Think of all the other statements that Martha can make in coming shows that will suddenly become interesting, "When I was picking dandelion greens in prison..."; "Last time I heard that, I was in prison."; "Doing yoga is very meditative in prison." I think I'll start a drinking game. In prison.

That's not the only prison mention, either. In her opening monologue, Martha shows off her now-bare ankle, but notes that she was so taken with the method of keeping track of people that she decided to fasten one on every member of her staff. On that cue, her prep cooks, Mark Burnett, and even her producers, all stick out their legs to show their new Marthanklets.

Today's show features David Spade -- he of the famous Saturday Night Live Martha-Poncho skit -- as a guest star. I'm going to keep this show on my TiVo schedule because I anticipate more laughter and even more folding tee-shirt wisdom. Plus, there are rumors Sean "Please remove the 'P' from the Diddy" Combs is going to teach Martha how to rap and Martha's going to teach him how to wrap...presents.

In San Francisco, Martha airs weekdays at 3:00 PM on NBC. It's a syndicated show, so check your local listings.

My brother has a kegerator. What is a kegarator you ask? Well, in his case it's an old beaten up mustard-yellow basement refrigerator that he knocked a big hole in, installed a tap, and hooked up a 5-gallon soda keg full of his homebrew to which chills in the main compartment. In the upper freezer compartment, he stores a fresh collection of beer mugs, ready for a moments notice.

He started homebrewing in 1991 while living in Arkansas (um, we aren't talking moonshine here). It was part of a project for a German class he had in college, and he's been doing it ever since. Over the years he's brewed many a concoction, including countless ambers, stouts, ales, and other more exotic experiments like chocolate-blackberry ale, spiced winter lager, and cranberry wheat beer.

Making the simplest batch of homebrew is a lot like making a giant pot of soup, only it takes 1-2 months and you end up with fizzy bottles of it. The first step is to find the biggest stockpot you can, bring about 3 gallons of water to a roiling boil, then add malt extract and hops. Now your house should fill with a grassy, dank, sweet smell that you will either love or it with make you retch. After your "soup" boils for about an hour, it is then cooled, and strained into a glass carboy where it's topped with water (to fill up the 5-gallon vessel). Yeast is swirled into the liquid, and it's topped with a stopper and tube (called a blowoff tube).

As it sits and ferments over the next couple of weeks (during this time you will have to resort to a previously brewed batch of beer or storebought brew--fortunately these days there are plenty of microbrews to choose from), the beer will start glorping little nasty bits out through the tube. Like globs of foam and bitter oils. Once you have fermented soup, sugar is added (which will carbonate the beer when it is bottled), and the bottling begins. Oh, that's fun, let me tell you. Plan to end up a giant sticky mess. You, your kitchen, and the dog. (Hence the reason my brother has switched to kegging his brews). Assuming your bottles don't explode, they should be ready to drink in 2-3 weeks. Of course, throughout this entire process it is vital that everything remain spotlessly clean and sanitized or that first bottle of homebrew might be your last (well, that's a bit dramatic, it really can't kill you but it might make you wish you were dead).

While attending college at U of O in Eugene, Oregon, he was on a roll, brewing up to two types of beer a month and sharing it with all of his friends, using the stovetop method described above. Over the years he has refined his techniques to improve the quality of the beer. He now has an "all-grain, semi-automated beer making system" (those are his words) in his basement (did I mention he is a science geek?). Now, instead of hauling a very heavy stockpot to the stovetop and bottling the beer, it's mixed, heated, and piped into kegs all in one place. And in comes the kegerator, ready to fill your icy cold mug with frothy amber ale. It's a natural progression of beer.

If you are interested in making your own beer, which I've done myself a handful of times, there is a fantastic local beer and wine-making shop in Berkeley called The Oak Barrel. It's been around forever and they guys that work there are awesome.

p.s. The beer is damn good. good beer. yum.

Skulking around the stalls of my farmers market the other day, these Cranberry Beans immediately caught my eye. Haricots Écossés (pronounced air-ee-koe ay-koe-say) literally translates to Beans Shelled or Shelled Beans, as we'd say, which is one of the more staid names for this beautiful bean, though it must be shelled to be eaten so some practicality thrown in there.

I was expecting it to find it hailed from some exotic locale high in the Andes or on an uninhabited island off Madagascar but no, it's grown in the good ol' USA and Canada. Some other monikers include borlotti bean, saluggia, crab eye bean, rosecoco bean, fagioli romano, October bean, and ironically French Horticultural bean. It is of the Phaseolus Vulgaris (sounds like my last French boyfriend) variety and is related to the tongues of fire bean! Now that's a name!

So now that we've dispensed with the formalities, let's get down to business. Just what is this whimsical bean with the delightful red spots? It's a bean, a legume, akin to the kidney or pinto bean known for its creamy texture and chestnut flavor which is why it is popular in stews and soups. They begin to decorate their vines in late summer as the harvest of string beans fades.

Prolific in Spanish and Portuguese cuisine, they are also a popular first course in Northern Italy simply cooked and served with a drizzle of olive oil, a squeeze of lemon, and a twist of the pepper grinder. Or with a chunk of good crusty bread and a salad they can make a meal of themselves.

So how do you actually cook these lovely legumes? Rather daunting when they are rock hard and could put an eye our if mishandled. The standard method if you have dried cranberry (or other) beans is to first soak them in cold water overnight or at least 12 hours. Drain the water, a few times if you can, and cover with fresh cold water. Bring the water to a boil for 3 minutes, reduce heat and simmer, covered, for approximately 45 minutes, or until tender. 1 cup of dried beans should give you about 3 cups of cooked beans.

If you are given a last minute head up that guests are arriving for dinner that evening, here is the quick soak way: Add beans to a pot of boiling water and boil for 2 minutes. Do not add salt. Remove pot from heat and cover and soak for about 4 hours. Drain the water, add fresh cold water and simmer until tender, as above.

Fresh beans are of course exponentially easier and faster and here is one of my favorite way to prepare it.

Cranberry Beans

- 3 cups shelled fresh Cranberry Beans
- 1 tablespoons olive oil
- fresh thyme sprigs or dried thyme in a pinch
- ¼ lemon
- a few sprigs worth of fresh parsley leaves, finely chopped

1. In a pot, combine beans, olive oil, herbs and cover with cold water. Bring to a boil.
NOTE: Please do not add salt until the beans are thoroughly cooked, it will make the skins tough.
2. Reduce heat to low. Cover and cook until beans are tender, anywhere from 20-30 minutes.
3. Remove lid and let cool to warm. Drain beans from water and herbs.
4. Toss beans in olive oil, a grind of salt & pepper, squeeze of lemon, and chopped parsley
5. Serve with a chunk of bread and/or a green salad.

Last night I was particularly sluggish and not terribly hungry so I simply sautéed a cup of fresh cranberry beans in olive oil and dried thyme for a few minutes, added ½ cup water, covered and cooked on low for about 10-15 minutes, tossing the beans every few minutes. A grind of salt & pepper, squeeze of lemon, et voila. A great light evening treat. Bon appetit!

Back in Boston, there's this little barbecue place in Somerville called Redbones. Redbones has long been touted as the best barbecue in the area. You get bibs, eat in the basement off newspapers, and they even have their own pit. Friends, reviewers, and even men from Tennessee raved about Redbones, so I went and ate. And then I got depressed -- it was nothing special. For one thing, there was a severe lack of sauce on my bones, for another the meat just didn't have the flavor I was craving. There was no oomph, no zing, no satisfaction for meat-craving me.

There are a couple of barbecue places around the Bay Area that leak out intoxicating fumes of smoked meat. I walk by and sniff the air rapturously but sniff is all I do. I've never allowed myself to be intoxicated, because I'm so afraid of being as disappointed as I was at Redbones.

Enter Phil's B.B.Q. of San Diego. After my husband's co-worker threatened never to speak to us again unless we checked it out, we went. On an afternoon that we decided to visit the zoo and thus would need some serious fortification before walking around all the livelong day, we indulged in some serious barbecue.

We started with Phil's BBQ Broham, seasoned pork shoulder sandwich. The tender pork was chargrilled, liberally sauced, and piled with housemade coleslaw. As much as I wanted to rub the succulent, saucy meat all over my body, and as perfect a topping the creamy, tangy coleslaw was, the sandwich bun is what really floored me. I mean, forget how dripping with spicy, sticky sauce the perfectly done pork was, I was completely obsessed with how well the bun stood up to all the juicy ingredients. Not one crumb of that chewy bun got soggy. It was an old fashioned drippy sandwich miracle!

But of course the real reason we were there was to restore my faith in ribs, so we also shared a Half-Rib Dinner. This dinner was seven or eight pork back ribs with piles of more hot, crispy fries than we could eat. I'm truly sorry for the lack of juicy images, but my hands were way too messy to be fumbling around for my digital. You'll have to take my word for it that the pork ribs were dripping with spicy sauce and the meat was barely even attached to the bone.

To fully round out this artery-clogging meal, we crunched through the most interesting onion rings. The fried casing around the thickly sliced Vidalia onions was quite hard, almost brittle, and not soggy in the least. I'm sure lots of grease went into making those golden beauties, but you couldn't tell for the tasting.

Thank god the San Diego Zoo is so large or I might be taking blood thinners now.

Phil's B.B.Q.
4030 Goldfinch Street @ Washington
San Diego, CA 92116

Sunday-Thursday 11:00 AM-9:00 PM
Closed Mondays

Title: Chef de Cuisine, PlumpJack Cafe

Home town: Lexington KY been in the Bay Area for about a year and half

1. What were meals like for you growing up?
Awful! My mom wasn't a very good cook. We ate well-done burgers and well-done meatloaf. But we had a farm so we had plenty of vegetables and my dad cooked good breakfasts. My favorite foods were monkey bread and cereal.

2. What's your favorite item on the menu right now?
My signature dish, Applewood Smoked French Foie Gras. I love it. It's smoky which reflects my Southern background. We cold smoke it and then sear it.

In New York at the restaurant Blue Smoke where I used to work we hot smoked it, but I got the idea to cold smoke it instead and it's much better this way. No one else is doing it out here and people love it. Right now it has peaches on it but next month we'll probably add fire roasted plums and hazelnuts.

3. What music do you listen to in the kitchen?
Everything from Madonna to Hall & Oates, late 80's songs. I love to sing along and bug everyone! We only play music from 3 until 5. No music is on during dinner service. I want people to be able to focus in the kitchen.

4. Where do you like to go out to eat?
I love Chinese restaurants. I like China First on Clement. My wife is Chinese so she orders (in Chinese) and tells me about everything on the menu. We order the eight course menu. I like simple Italian food too like at A16 and Delfina.

5. What's the best thing about living in the Bay Area?
The weather! It's beautiful here. The sun is so bright, the water, the produce, the vegetables. There aren't crowds here like in New York City.

I like going to the farmer's markets both the one at the Ferry Building and on the weekend I go with my family to the one in Mountain View which has about 70 vendors and is less crowded. I shop for the restaurant and buy fruit for my son.

I was first introduced to this precocious plum known as the Mirabelle while dining at the unparalleled White Barn Inn in Kennebunkport, Maine. I was celebrating a friend's birthday and we had a choice of four intermezzos (palate cleansers). I left the decision in the gifted hands of Chef Jonathan Cartwright with whom I'd cooked with at the James Beard House in New York. His selection, given my starter and main course, was a Mirabelle sorbet. Thus began my quest to learn about this persnickety prune (prune is plum in French).

The Mirabelle is a small golden yellow plum with red speckles which grows mostly in the Lorraine region of north-east France on the border of Germany. The season is very short--just a quick two to three weeks in late August and is not to be missed! Known for being sweet and flavorful, the Mirabelle transforms not only the plain pie but makes delicious jams and preserves, wine and eau de vie.

Eau de vie (water of life) is a potent brandy distilled from fermented fruit juices and Mirabelle is one of the most popular along with Kirsch (cherry) and Framboise (raspberry). It has even found it's way into the champagne bottle. According to Veuve Cliquot, their '96 Gold Label Vintage Reserve, their self-acclaimed "biggest" champagne, boasts first impressions of citrus, peach, apricot, and Mirabelle plum.

The Mirabelle plum is believed to have traveled from the Southwest Asia in the 15th century to France, Metz specifically, where it was first recorded in 1675. Rumor has it that Alexander the Great himself delivered this little jewel. Given that, it's not such a stretch that the Mirabelle and plums in general remain an important part of Azerbaijani cuisine and their notorious slivovitz, the oh-so-potent Hungarian/Central European brandy akin to the Mirabelle eau de vie. Who knew...?

So what is a plum without a festival? Fortunately we won't know as Metz, home to the humble Mirabelle, hosts the annual Mirabelle Festival celebrating it's favorite fruit every August complete with parades, religious celebrations, concerts, fireworks, traditional dance....and let us not forget the ubiquitous festival queen, deliciously crowned Reine de la Mirabelle (Queen of the Mirabelle--in the middle, below).

This passionate plum has moved mere mortels to exclaim in poetry:

The word plum is delicious
pout and push, luxury of
self-love, and savoring murmur
full in the mouth and falling
like fruit
taut skin
pierced, bitten, provoked into
juice, and tart flesh
question
and reply, lip and tongue
of pleasure.
- American poet, Helen Chasin

So you are thinking, do i have to fly 6,000 miles to France to partake in these succulent delights? Bien sur non! Of course not, but you didn't hear it from me. Andy Mariani's farm stand in Morgan Hill grows a small supply of these delicate fruits. Dave Karp of the L.A. Times writes: "He always warns, "Don't tell people that I have a commercial orchard of these things." His output is just too small."

Now that you can find them locally, here is a simple Mirabelle Tart recipe. We made this on the barge a few weeks ago in Burgundy but were so busy inhaling the tart that we forgot to take pictures. Just picture a peach tart, but with little yellow plums... et voila!

Mirabelle Plum Pie

pastry dough, enough for one tart/pie shell
1 pound (500 g) fresh mirabelle plums
1 oz (25 g) flour
2 oz (50 g) heavy cream
2 oz (50 g) sugar
1 egg

- Preheat the oven at 180°C/ 350°F/ #7.
- Roll out the pastry dough.
- Line a pie tin with the pastry and blind bake until just barely golden.
- Wash the plums, halve them and place them on the pastry cut side up.
- In a bowl, whisk the egg and flour.
- Add the sugar and combine. Add the heavy cream and combine.
- Pour this mix into the tart shell around the fruits and bake for approx 35 minutes.
- NOTE: we had a very shallow tart tin but if you have a deeper pie tin, just double the recipe and fill to just below the top of the plums.
- Serve warm or cold.

Another recipe I found in cyberspace while researching Mirabelles is this jam recipe. I haven't tried it but it sounds good and easy enough for even me...

Mirabelle Plum Jam

- Wash and weigh the fruit and then cook them down in half their weight of water.
- Now add double their weight of sugar and simmer until thick and syrupy.
- Remove the stones by ladling the jam into a colander and picking them out....careful not to burn your fingers!
- Bottle in sterilized jars and store.

Bon courage (good luck) and bon appetit!

Andy's Orchard
1615 Half Road, Morgan Hill
www.andysorchard.com
Open during the summer
Mon-Fri 10am-5pm; Sat-Sun 10am-4pm

Parkhouse Eatery in the funky neighborhood of University Heights was recommended by the same friend who batted us such a delicious home run with Saffron. We booked over there one late Saturday afternoon and just managed to get in for lunch before they closed. We may have been their final customers, but they couldn't have been more gracious or patient with us and we couldn't have been more starving for their food.

There were many, many choices on their large breakfast/brunch/lunch menu, but one magical phrase immediately leaped off the page at me: "Forked avocado on toast." I don't know why "forked avocado" sounds so much more luscious than "sliced avocado" but it just does. I love avocado and I have an oddly fanatic passion for toast, so this was a definite order for our table. The perfect green and yellow forked avocado was served with a chiffonade of basil and freshly grated black pepper on top of grilled sourdough bread. Simple. Fresh. Delicious.

Clearly not getting enough avocado with that little appetizer, I had to order the Parkhouse Benedict, which was poached eggs layered on grilled focaccia, tomatoes, and Applewood-smoked bacon, and drenched with a tomato-avocado hollandaise. I don't often get Eggs Benedict, but when I do, I want to make it count -- boy did it count that day. The plate of messy loveliness also came with some refreshing orange wedges and a dollop of special Parkhouse Griddled Garlic Mashed Potatoes. Was the tomato-avocado hollandaise a bit muddled in color compared to the usually sun-bright traditional hollandaise? Yes, it was. Did I care at all? No, not a jot. You might notice that I couldn't resist taking a bite even before I took a picture.

My husband was so immersed in his order of chilaquiles -- scrambled eggs, corn tortillas, homemade red chile sauce, asiago cheese, and a surprise topper of black bean fritters -- that he forgot to poach some of my eggs. Heh -- I love my food puns so much more than anyone else. Needless to say, it was another perfectly sumptuous dish. The only fly in our ointment was, well, the flies, actually. It seemed that wherever we ate out of doors in San Diego, flies were there in ridiculous droves -- at our friends' place in North Park, the Lebanese deli and bakery on Alabama, and here. Hard to stuff your face when you're swatting your hand around.

That button-popping brunch fed us for the rest of our Coronado-touring day. I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to go back for dinner, but I definitely recommend Parkhouse Eatery as a San Diego must-eat breakfast spot.

Parkhouse Eatery
4574 Park Blvd
San Diego, CA 92116

Dinner: Monday-Friday 5:00 PM-9:00 PM
Saturday-Sunday 5:00 PM-10:00 PM